There’s no way I’m bringing her into it. She's off-limits.

You: No way. She's totally off-limits. I’d rather you ruined my life than mess with hers..

John’s Fate: And here I was thinking you had no morals whatsoever. You’ve surprised me, John....but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go any easier on you. For your next task you’re going on a shopping trip to Dan’s Adult World. I’ve arranged to have a package of items waiting for you.

You think to yourself, “Shopping? Really? If I ever find out who this person is I’ll show them how to really **** someone.”

You: Yeah, sure, I’ll go shopping at an adult store. Like I’ve never done that before.

John’s Fate: Don’t start getting smart with me now. I’m just getting warmed up. I’ll be in touch after you pick-up your items.

With that your blackmailer signs out of chat.

The rest of the work day goes as usual. The only difference is adjusting to wearing the thong. By late afternoon you’ve managed to figure out how to wear them just right, so your balls are mostly contained in the triangle material. By the end of the day you’ve actually found yourself getting aroused and enjoying the way your hard cock sticks out the top and how the thong rubs against it. You even start to get comfortable with the feeling of the thin material cleaving your ass cheeks.

Once you finish up your day you jump in your car and head to Dan’s Adult World, which you’ve never been in, but know because of its reputation for being one of the sleaziest porn shops in the tri-state area.

You park behind the building and scurry inside hoping no one sees you. It isn't like anyone in this part of town would recognize you, but still, it's embarrassing to even be stepping foot in this place.

Dan's Adult World is dim inside. Roughly half a dozen men skulk quietly through shelves of pornography with their heads down. To the left is a hallway with a sign above it that says "BOOTHS." To the right are four rows of sex toys and bondage gear. You're actually a little impressed by how well stocked this place is with sex toys. There must be more perverts in the city than you realized.

Directly in front of you is a counter with an employee behind it who must be at least 18 due to the laws, but with the way he's dressed and his bowl-style haircut looks to be about 15. You step to the counter.

"I'm here to pick-up a package," you say hoping there won't be any need to say your name out loud.

With the voice of a 12-year-old going through puberty he responds, "We have lots of packages, Sir, what name would it be under?"

"John."

He turns and looks through a stack of boxes behind the counter. As he looks at the label on the largest box on the floor he says loudly, "John Doe."

Your fairly certain everyone in the store has looked up and is now staring at you. You glance up briefly and wonder if the one guy looking at his mobile is googling your name.

"Yes. That's my name."

He smiles and plops the package on the counter in front of you, "Oh, this was a very interesting package to put together, Mr. Doe."

He guffaws and punches some numbers into the register, "That'll be $1243.26."

Your blood pressure starts to rise again, but you grit your teeth and slap down your credit card.

He runs your card and hands you the receipt. After he does so, and before you can protest, he opens up the box and pulls out an envelope, "I was told to make sure you received this before you left with the package, Mr. Doe."